To Drug Our Sorrows
by StarDuchess
Summary: Snape never shagged the same person twice, but several had become regular customers of his illegal products, and he had the feeling that Harry would be the next one. One-shot. WARNINGS: non-magical AU, drug use, slash sex, minor character death. SSHP


Written for Snapy_90 in the LJ Snape_Potter community fest: Secret Snarry Swap 2014. Beta by Rycolfan and Badgerlady - Thanks!

Warnings for non-magical AU, drug use, implied promiscuity, male slash sex, minor character death

* * *

><p><strong><span>To Drug Our Sorrows<span>**

With lights flashing off his black leather outfit, Snape oozed a dark and dangerous attitude as he stood against the middle of a wall in the nightclub, one booted foot up supporting him, one arm raising a cigarette to his lips every so often, and two eyes darting around and examining the patrons. The air was smoky with an intoxicating mixture of woods and citrus notes from various cigars and pipes allowed in the club as well as the traditional undercurrent of sweat and alcohol. The place was dark, though the flashes of strobe lights and multi-coloured pinpoints over the dance floor and behind the bar allowed for mild visibility, enough to discern one moving body from the next, but just barely.

Snape did not dance nor did he care much for the pounding music, but it mattered little to him. He wasn't here for the music. His entertainment was in the people, in the way they drank themselves to distraction, how they writhed against each other in hedonistic pleasure, in the escape they found through the needle or the nose. This latter was his specialty, he being one of the main suppliers of heroin, cocaine, and meth in the area. And he was out here looking for new prospects. Over the years he'd become proficient in spotting those that needed a quick fix and those that were experimenting and looking for something new.

And then there were those prospects ready to engage in sex. Lust was a powerful drug all on its own, and it was one to which he himself was addicted. The bodies were many and varied, from the skinny to the overlarge; from short to tall; black, blond, red, brown; male or female; it didn't matter so long as they were amenable to his terms. They had to do it at the club. They had to practice safe sex. And there could be no emotional ties. He never wanted to see his conquests again, unless they turned medicinal in their needs. It kept his life uncomplicated.

As he scanned the crowd, he saw three regular addicts and two first-time returnees. He caught their gazes and nodded slightly in confirmation of his goods. At some later point in the night, he would go to the loo and from there into the back storerooms when he was ready to do business, and they would follow. For now he kept his eyes open for a healthy young thing to take to his bed.

Thirty minutes later, he hadn't seen anyone interesting and he could sense his customers becoming impatient, so he led them off to the back. They spent a good hour dealing and reclining in the effects of their purchases. Snape finally shooed them out in order to go back out to the club and search for more prospects.

The crowd had changed about half its participants in that time and Snape went back to foraging. He raised an eyebrow at a group of red-heads that had showed up, all of their features and builds so very similar to each other that they had to be cousins at the very least, if not siblings. He rolled his eyes at the obnoxious group, already enjoying themselves halfway through a second round of drinks and leering at the ladies. But then his gaze landed on a dark-haired man who looked to be with them, if the slaps on his back by the reds were anything to go by. His build was rather small, but well proportioned, fit and trim; he was just dwarfed by his friends to the point that he looked like a teenager in comparison. It was obvious in their physiques that they were all adults somewhere in their twenties, prime picking age.

One thing Snape could tell by watching them was that the youth was uncomfortable in this setting, eyes darting to and fro in agitation, nervous hands running through his hair, body jerking with short choppy movements to the music. His companions were all smiling and laughing, but their mirth was not mirrored on his face. He looked harried and jostled, definitely in need of some relaxation in the form of either a good shag or a good joint. The first trick would be to separate him from his mates. The second would then be completing the deal.

He pushed off the wall and put out his cigarette, having noticed that none of them were smoking, so that could not be his in. Instead, he opted to pull one of the many red-heads first, then obtain an introduction to his prey. He meandered through the crowd, swaying to and fro with the music, dancing with an individual or two along the way, until he came across a shorter, stockier red. He undulated against the man, who turned his head around to gaze at the newcomer. Black eyes met blue; the men nodded to each other in agreement. They danced one song before Snape steered him off the dance floor and over to the bar.

"What would be your interest this evening?" Snape said loud enough to be heard over the music but not close enough to invade personal space.

"Bourbon on the rocks, if you don't mind," said the red with a grateful look.

Snape motioned to the bartender and ordered the same drink for both of them. It took mere seconds to fill their order and he turned back around before a full minute had even passed.

"Thanks. Name's Charlie, by the way," said the red, nodding his gratitude for the liquor.

"Snape. I take it you are new to the club. All of you."

Charlie laughed. "Noticed us, yeah?"

Snape smiled a little. "It would be difficult to ignore such a large group of red-headed individuals even in this dimness."

Charlie kept smiling and nodded. "Yeah, my brothers and I are hard to miss. Not to mention we have a great time when we all go out together." He gave Snape a conspiratorial wink.

Snape scanned the dancers again and saw quite a few of Charlie's brothers swaying with other patrons. Two identical members were still on the sidelines, talking and laughing and checking out the entire room. His dark-haired prey was standing near those two, nursing an ale and nervously watching the crowd. "Are those twins your brothers as well?"

"Oh, yeah, might want to stay away from them, though. Pranksters, those two. Don't accept anything they try to give you." Though the was firmly stated and he was serious in his warning, he smiled with fondness at his kin.

"The dark-haired man talking with them doesn't appear to be having a spectacular time," he said as casually as possible, not wanting to tip off Charlie to his actual motives.

Charlie's smile faded. "Yeah, that's my youngest brother's best friend. He's had a rough time of it lately, and we all thought he could use a night out. Doesn't seem to be working."

"Perhaps he needs a better distraction."

Nodding at this, Charlie said, "I think you're right. He needs to get laid."

Snape raised an eyebrow at that. "None of you have offered?"

Charlie chuckled. "Nah, we all think of him as another brother. Wouldn't work. Hey, would you like to come say 'hi'?"

Not wanting to sound too enthusiastic, he replied, "If you wish it. I would hate to disturb your evening."

Charlie waved it off. "Nothing to it. Come on." He led Snape over to his twin brothers and their nervous friend. The twins saw them approach and waved, looking with curiosity at Snape. "Bros, this is Snape. He must frequent the club a lot. Snape, these are my brothers Fred and George, and this is Harry."

He clasped hands with each twin in good accord, but when he shook Harry's hand, it was with deliberate slowness and he lingered a tad longer than proper. He looked straight into the dark eyes that flashed green in the strobe light, caught in the wariness with which Harry viewed him. This was a standard reaction to a first meeting of strangers, but there was more there in Harry's gaze than a simple caution. It intrigued Snape and was definite material with which to mold a potential new client.

"You look high strung," he said to Harry. "Perhaps something stronger to take off the edge?"

Harry smiled a little. "You could tell? Yeah, this stuff isn't working."

Snape nodded and asked the twins if they needed to top off. They all agreed to another round, so he sauntered off to the bartender and came back moments later with a set of cheap whiskey shots. The twins and Charlie nodded thanks, took their drinks and downed them as one, grimacing at the taste but nodding their heads with approval. While they were occupied with the rest of the dancers, Snape turned back to Harry, who had taken the shot glass in his hand but hadn't drunk any of it. "Go on," he said. He then tilted his head back and downed his own shot, relishing the burn to his nostrils as the fumes came back up his throat.

Harry stared in fascination at him, then, with trepidation, at his own glass. "I'm not much for drinking." Snape motioned him to down it anyway. With a big heave and sigh, he tilted the shot back into his mouth. The distilled liquid seared his throat and sent Harry into a coughing fit. He would have dropped the glass, letting it shatter on the club's wood floor, if Snape hadn't stolen it out of his grasp. "Damn, that burns."

Snape chuckled at him. "It's a good enough sin."

Harry shook his head. "Sorry. I'm not much of a drinker, as I said."

"But it drowns the sorrows." He watched Harry's reaction and a deep sadness fell over the young man. "Your friend Charlie wanted you to have a pleasant time."

Harry looked down and away. "Not much for crowds, either," he said. He glanced around at the throng of writhing bodies and realization dawned on him that he was left alone with this stranger, all of his red-headed pseudo-brothers off enjoying themselves on the dance floor or in other conversations.

Latching on to this opportunity, Snape offered a suggestion. "There are a few alcoves to the left that are quieter, but you can still see your friends." He gestured to one wall with angular niches that housed the occasional couple. The club had been designed with acoustics in mind and the shapes of the alcoves deflected the ambient music so conversations could be held without damaging the vocal chords.

Harry looked at the wall and then back at his friends and must have felt safe in the relatively open space. "Oh ... okay."

Snape guided him over. As soon as they stepped into the niche, the noise level dropped by half.

"Wow, that's impressive."

"Yes, the owner was tired of complaints that you couldn't converse within the clubs. It's bad business when your clientele leave to go elsewhere, so he asked an architect who had an acoustics engineer on hand to design the space."

"That's quite brilliant. Do you know the owner, then?" He took back his drink and sipped the rest of it, dealing better with the burn going down the second time.

"An acquaintance, yes. I even have a couple of rooms in the back if you want to go someplace more private." He stared hard at Harry, letting the young man know what he was offering. He couldn't put a finger on it, but Snape knew that his services were needed, and in return he could see that his own needs were satisfied, if only he could convince Harry to open up to him. He let interest and heat fill up his gaze, a deep pool of seduction to draw him in.

Harry looked caught. His mouth had gone a little slack and his features froze. He stared into the abyss of Snape's obsidian gaze, lost and yearning, worlds of pain swirling in his pupils, in the tight lines of tension around his eyes. It took only a second for Snape to assess him, and it came to him - his intuition after years of watching people - that Harry was disillusioned. He was taken aback by how much sadness and bitterness he could read in those verdant eyes, more than any young man his age should have ever experienced. He wondered what had happened, but the circumstances mattered not if it could get Harry into his bed. Sympathy. That would be Snape's ticket in.

"Come on," he said without waiting for Harry to speak or give him an opinion. He took his hand and gently pulled him along as he sought through the crowd for one of the reds. He happened upon Charlie again, thank goodness. No need to explain further. "Your friend needs relaxation. Back room. Half an hour."

Charlie glanced over at Harry, a silent question passing between them. A single nod from Harry seemed to reassure him, and he allowed acceptance as well as some gratitude to morph onto his face. "Okay, thanks. He could use it."

Snape turned to the left and led Harry off the dance floor, past the bar, and around a corner into a long corridor. The air was stale with sweat and smoke and was illuminated by only a dull red glow from the ceiling. They skirted around patrons waiting near the toilets and continued further down the dark hallway. He ignored the doors to his right that said "Bar" and "Supplies" and one on the left that said "Office," finally stopping in front of another that said "Private" just before the "Exit" door that led outside. He punched a key code into the lock and turned the handle. The door opened without a sound.

He didn't say anything as he turned on a single lamp, subdued enough not to hurt the eyes coming in from the club. The orange glow revealed a comfortable sitting area with coffee table, bookcase and stereo system, though no TV. Harry came in and stood nervously next to the sofa. With a soft click, Snape closed the door. He took a step toward Harry, who fidgeted and whose eyes flicked between Snape and the closed door.

"Hm, sorry, maybe this isn't such a good idea." Harry started to take a step back to the door.

Snape reached out and placed a hand over Harry's that still held his drink. "Nonsense. You came here looking for relief and I can provide that. No use not taking what's on offer, is it?" With smooth dexterity, he loosened Harry's hold on the glass and took it from him, setting it on the table. He then began to massage Harry's fingers, slowly with light pressure, easing some of the tension out of the young man. "What has you so stressed?" If he could get Harry to talk about his troubles, it would calm things between them, lull him into a feeling of security.

Harry dropped his eyes a bit and sadness filled his face. "It-it's work. I'm interning under a child psychologist and we've just gotten into some abuse cases, and … and you don't want to hear any of it." He looked sick just mentioning it.

Moving his ministrations from fingers to hands and then up the arms, Snape stepped forward and watched Harry, brows furrowing. Sympathy. Yes, he could do that here. "Those can be tough," he said. "It can leave scars - on the child, the adults, even the case workers."

Harry shakes his head in the affirmative, eyes still not focused on Snape, though.

"My father used to beat me and my mother when he would get drunk." It felt odd sharing that bit of information about himself with this perfect stranger. He never talked about his childhood; it wasn't worth remembering except as a dark blot on his past, but it made sense in this context, especially since Snape could sense something deeper, darker, in Harry's own thoughts that he hadn't voiced yet.

Harry's eyes went wide and snapped to attention on Snape's face. "I-I'm sorry."

Snape shooed the sentiment away. "Don't be; it wasn't your fault. I hated it, but I survived." His hands were on Harry's shoulders, offering comfort. He lowered his voice. "It will be alright, as long as someone steps in to help." He watched as Harry hardened a little and glanced away. It was obvious the cases were affecting him and he needed an escape from them. "For now, you just need to forget." Harry looked back up at him, eyes searching for answers that Snape couldn't give him, but he finally gulped down his anxiety and accepted the words of wisdom.

Never letting his eyes leave Harry's face, he turned them around in the room and then walked backwards down a short hallway, pulling Harry with him. He nudged open the door onto a small room with an unadorned queen-sized bed in it, the sheets rumpled and in disarray. Without waiting or asking, he pulled Harry into a kiss, soft but not timid. His tongue swiped over soft lips, wanting entry. Harry tilted his head a little and parted his lips in assent. Snape pulled him fully into the embrace, tongue delving deeply into Harry's mouth, eliciting a gasp and then a moan as Harry abandoned his inhibitions and pushed himself up against Snape's hard body.

With little effort, Snape took off both their shirts, running hands all over Harry's small but toned frame. Heat grew in the room as they licked and nipped at each other's flesh, sighs and gasps the only sounds escaping their lips. Snape pressed kisses along Harry's jaw, heading for the sensitive skin under the ear. Harry moaned as his neck was ravaged. His breathing increased and then hitched as Snape's fingers brushed over a nipple. Snape trailed his nose down Harry's neck to the merging of his torso. He could feel the trembling pulse under his nose and knew Harry was already close. Without warning he bit down on the junction and tweaked both nipples. Harry came with a shout.

Snape kissed him again, urging him down onto the bed. He slipped off his own trousers and then pulled Harry's off his pliant body. While near the bottom of the bed, he began massaging Harry's feet, helping him relax further and stoking the embers of passion back into flames.

He worked his way up Harry's thin legs, pausing in anticipation over Harry's hard prick. "Ready for more?" His voice was low, seductive.

Although he'd calmed a bit, Harry was still panting heavily and shivered at the lusty words. "Yeah."

Snape poured out some lubricant and coated his fingers. He circled the hole before inserting one finger, listening to Harry's breath hitch and then let out in a sigh. He proceeded with caution but with sure advances each step of the way. After coating his own member with a condom and lube, he lined up at Harry's entrance and pushed in. He stilled, allowing Harry time to relax. With gentle thrusts, Snape slowly filled him.

He grunted with his efforts, hands on Harry's hips and probably leaving bruises from his hard grip, thrusting over and over, building speed toward climax. Getting close to his own release, he fisted Harry's cock. Harry came with another shout, spurting all over the bed sheets. Snape couldn't hold back after that and it only took two more thrusts before he was coming, too.

They stayed locked like that, trembling with aftershocks, until those faded away. Snape pulled out with a squelching sound, lube dribbling out of Harry's hole. He took off the used condom and threw it into the trash receptacle. Harry slid his legs along the bed, lowering his abdomen and collapsing into a pile of blissed-out goo. Snape extricated himself from the bed and walked to the other room, returning a moment later with two joints and a lighter. He lit one and puffed it before handing the other one over. Harry took it and examined it, frowning a tad. Snape smirked. "Well, go on, then."

Harry hesitated another moment and then finally shrugged, placing the joint at his lips. He lit up, took a drag, and coughed.

Snape laughed. "First one's free, kid."

Harry took offence to the kid bit, so he glowered at Snape and took another drag. It was better over time as his lungs became accustomed to it. The scent was herbal and sweet, and he appreciated the way his body relaxed even more. His thoughts turned calm. For a while he didn't mind about the outside world.

When they'd finished their joints, Snape said, "Better, but it's time to return to your friends."

Harry nodded his head. They got dressed quickly, Harry wincing as he put his sticky y-fronts back on. "Thanks, you know. For … that, for everything." He looked with earnest appreciation into Snape's dark eyes. His green ones were less haunted now, but some sadness had crept back into them.

Snape nodded and said, "Feel free to come back for another fix, but bring cash."

Harry frowned. "I'm not paying for sex."

Snape sneered. "You haven't paid for anything, but next time the weed's not free."

"Oh," Harry said, registering what Snape meant. "Okay. Well, thanks, again."

Snape led him back out of his rooms and back to the club, leaving him near the dance floor to find the red-headed brothers. He walked off to the other side near the bar and snagged a drink, thoughts never leaving the strange youngster he'd just shagged. He never shagged the same person twice, but several had become regular customers of his illegal products, and he had the feeling that Harry would be one such.

When he turned around to search the crowd, Harry was gone.

* * *

><p>Several weeks went by before Snape spotted Harry again. The amount of time was both longer and shorter than Snape had expected: longer in that he felt Harry would have come back sooner for another joint based on his current studies, and shorter in that Harry had not seemed the clubbing type and, in point of fact, his red-headed friends had frequented the club without him over the past few weeks. Although Charlie had acknowledged his presence with a nod their first night back, Snape had not accepted the invitation to join them when he took stock that Harry was not among them, and they in turn had left him alone after that. So it was with relief and anxiety that he settled his eyes on the young man.<p>

He had thought about him a lot, more so than any lover or customer he'd ever had before. It was unsettling, and he found himself wishing that they'd never met. His life was ordered and structured and safe. Harry's presence had disrupted that, had led to unexpected feelings, which in turn would lead farther into unsafe territory. Yet he couldn't stop thinking about him, wishing to see him again and yet hating himself at the same time for this weakness. But if he could develop a working relationship with Harry based on chemical dependence, it could help appease his own need for companionship.

Harry was laughing at something one of the twins had said, but even in the dim and sporadic lights above the dance floor the laughter was strained and never reached his eyes, then died a mere second after the joke. Harry's features fell back into nervousness the same as that first night, but now there was an edge of horror as well. Something had greatly disturbed him, so much so that Snape guessed his friends had dragged him out here to relieve the stress once again. Well, Snape would be happy to oblige.

He moved over to the counter and motioned for a round of tequila shots. He carried the little glass containers full of pale amber liquor over to the reds, handing them out to cheers and nods of gratitude. He handed the next-to-last shot to Harry, who took it with a "Hello" and a tired smile. Snape downed the last one, grimacing at the cheap burn from the inferior product he'd ordered. That was his own fault, of course, since he wasn't about to blow a load of cash on all those red-heads. He wanted to get in their good graces so they would keep bringing Harry back, but he wasn't about to break the bank in doing so.

Charlie saluted him and said, "Good to see you. Mind if I leave Harry with you?"

Snape raised an eyebrow at him in question, appalled they were so trusting of him with their young friend, whom he'd only met once before.

Understanding the question and the emotion, Charlie leaned in and said in Snape's ear, "He's had a bad week. You were good for him last time."

Snape nodded his head in acknowledgement of Charlie's statement and the trust they were placing in him to comfort Harry. He thought it odd, but he wasn't going to say no as this was exactly what he wanted from the situation. So, as Charlie turned to the dance floor, he turned back to watch Harry take tentative sips of his tequila.

"You are supposed to knock it back," he told Harry with a small smirk.

Harry's sad smile came back. "Not much of a drinker, remember?" he shouted to be heard over the music.

Snape nodded that he remembered. "Back room?" Snape asked, tilting his head in the direction of the back area of the club he'd taken Harry to last time.

Harry shrugged, a move that indicated his frustration at the world and how futile he thought this outing would be to relax him, but he acquiesced anyway. "Sure."

Snape led the way, only making a small detour to the bar for another couple of tequila shots - the better stuff this time - before heading back down the dark corridor to his private rooms. Harry didn't hesitate upon entering this time, looking around the room for any changes, then sitting down on the arm of the sofa. Snape placed the new shots on the coffee table, walked off to the kitchenette, and came back a minute later with lime wedges and a salt shaker. "Lick the back of one hand."

Giving him a bemused look, Harry licked the back of his left hand, still holding his half-drunk shot in his right. Snape shook some salt on it, then handed Harry a lime wedge.

"Now, lick the salt, down the rest of your tequila, then suck on the lime. Makes it more palatable." He said that last with a sneer, clear in how he felt about this particular brand name.

"Okay," Harry said, twitching his shoulders in mock imitation of a shrug. He licked and drank and sucked, grimacing at both the taste of the liquor and at the sourness of the citrus fruit. His eyelids and eyebrows came up in shock at the final swallow. "Whoa! That hits you, doesn't it?" Snape nodded and smirked without saying anything. "Although the salt and the lime did help with the taste."

"Salt enhances flavour by engaging more of the taste buds and citric acid is most potent, overwhelming the less satisfactory elements of inferior alcohol. Now, this one," he said, handing Harry the second glass with a darker colored tequila, "is a far better variety. It should be sipped without accoutrements." He picked up his own and took the first sip, enjoying the rich bite and earthy qualities of the Heradura brand.

Harry looked unsure of another shot, but he took a big breath and then a small sip. He let it roll around his tongue for a second before swallowing. A genuine smile lit his face. "Oh, that is much better."

Snape inclined his head in agreement. He could tell Harry was naive about certain workings of the world, so he was taking more time and care with him than would be necessary with others. It would all be worth the effort if he could get Harry as a regular customer. With that in mind he turned to small talk and discussion, luring Harry further in with a friendly ear. "Your friends seemed to unburden themselves of you tonight as soon as I showed. What's happened?"

Harry snorted. "They mean well. They just got tired of hearing me gripe about my studies, the paediatric abuse cases, you remember." Snape nodded his head once to indicate that yet again he remembered. "I was in much better spirits when I left you last time, and they've been begging me to come see you again."

"To relieve themselves of your misery, then?"

He'd said it with a deadpan expression, but Harry laughed anyway. "Yeah, something like that."

"You do look a bit haggard."

Harry's mirth died. "It's awful. I can't believe how horrible some people are to their own kids." His eyes took on a faraway look filled with grief and sadness.

Snape pressed him for details but in a soft manner. He didn't want to add to Harry's distress, after all; the young man was here for quite the opposite reason, but if Snape could get him to discuss his troubles, the grief in him might ease away. "They are generally horrible to everyone. Is there a particular case that has you so upset this week?"

Harry took another sip of his tequila, not wincing or grimacing anymore as he became accustomed to the taste. He was quiet for a minute, rallying his thoughts and debating how much to divulge to this near stranger. Patient files were confidential, Snape knew, and even more so when they involved children, yet Harry needed to get his worries off his chest.

Harry sighed. "There's this one guy - jerk! - who's got something like Munchausen by Proxy syndrome, so his son's always 'sick' and getting bruises from being a 'sickly' child." Snape could tell by the sarcastic tone in Harry's voice that he wasn't buying the excuse. "We've gone to the home a couple of times and it just gives me the creeps. The kid's a little too quiet and gives the same answers every time we question him, and his eyes shift in agitation. And the air around this guy is really aggressive. He always pushes up his shirtsleeves and clenches his hands into fists while we're there. His hair's cropped really short and I can see the veins at his temples pulse in anger. I hate it. I want to take the little boy away, but we don't have any proof to bring before the judge." Harry ran a hand through his black locks in dissatisfaction.

Snape sipped his drink. He wasn't sure how to respond in comfort and solidarity, but he could offer a little advice. "You can continue to look for clues as to the man's transgressions, but know, Harry, that most children in these cases don't ever leave the abusive environment yet manage to survive."

Harry grew a bit angry at that. "I don't want them to just survive! They shouldn't have to endure such hellish conditions."

Snape raised a hand to forestall more protests. "I understand that, and you are correct that they should not have to, but in reality they do, and they develop coping techniques until either rescue can be made or they grow old enough to leave the house. Many of them have nowhere else to go, so a roof over their heads and food on the table may feel like their reward for putting up with the aggressors. They are also too young to see alternatives and are usually brainwashed into believing that they are the ones at fault or that the situation is normal. Personally, I never knew any different until I was older."

Bobbing his head up and down, Harry sighed and said, "Yeah, I get that. It happened that way with me, too."

Snape's brows furrowed. "You were abused?"

Harry's eyes became troubled. "No, not as such. I mean, I was never hit or anything, but my aunt and uncle who raised me never gave me any affection. I always thought that was normal until I attended secondary school and began seeing the interactions of other families. It took me a long time to label what they'd done to me as neglect." He shot the rest of his tequila, not caring about the flavour, but instead needing its immediate warmth. It wasn't enough to relax him, though.

"I've got something better for that," Snape said, hoping Harry would catch his meaning.

Harry looked sharply at him. "I brought cash this time."

Snape was surprised but pleased at the turn of events. It seemed he'd garnered a new customer after all. With a nod of his head, he stood from his chair and said, "It'll be £20." Harry acknowledged the amount and took out his wallet. He counted out two tens and handed them to Snape, who pocketed them immediately and then walked to the back room. He came back a moment later, handing one joint to Harry and holding another for himself. He watched as Harry took in the first inhalation, the young man closing his eyes and savoring the sweet smell even through the rush of coughing. He sat back down as Harry took his second hit and finally relaxed, the tension draining from his shoulder muscles and the worry lines in his face.

As Snape took his own first hit, Harry giggled. "What's so funny?" he asked with wry amusement. He'd seen plenty of his clients be overcome with laughter when they got high on marijuana, which was part of his enjoyment beyond the financial gain.

"You," Harry said. "You took in that big breath and blew up like a balloon." He broke down into more giggles.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Yes, well, that _is_ what's happening inside the lungs." That sent Harry into more laughter.

They continued on like this for another twenty minutes, Snape making the odd commentary and Harry laughing at everything, both of them enjoying the languid feelings and easy camaraderie they were sharing. Snape could get used to this; it's what he needed and it was safe territory. Harry didn't seem to mind making a fool of himself, licking salt and eating limes then giggling at his own sour face while Snape watched him. At one point Harry tried to stand to go to the loo, but he got dizzy and toppled over onto the couch. He became a little freaked out at that, saying, "Oh, better watch out! Not supposed to be on the good furniture. Shhhhh!" He put his index finger to his lips for quiet, then burst into more laughter at Snape's scowling visage.

"Perhaps I'd best accompany you. You might lose your way." He stood and offered a hand to Harry to use as leverage off the couch. Harry clung on and stumbled with him down to the loo.

When he came back out, he placed all his weight against Snape, trapping him against the wall. He started giggling again.

"What are you on about now?"

"Your beak! You look like a real crow when you scrunch up your face like that." Harry smiled really big, letting Snape know that he wasn't upset or mocking him, just making a happy observation.

"You are fortunate you get to see it," Snape said.

A mischievous look came over Harry. "Am I fortunate enough to get you to kiss me?" He was already circling his arms around Snape's neck and leaning in, but Snape closed off and managed to take a step away.

"I do not think that wise, especially as you are under the influence of a drug already. Sex would just add to the chemical mix inside your brain." He thought he'd made it clear last time that sex would not be on the menu in any future rendezvous, but maybe Harry had not caught his meaning or had forgotten. Or maybe he didn't care to respect that rule. But it was part of Snape's safety net to keep his life from becoming too complicated and risky.

He stilled himself against Harry's pout.

"You're no fun."

Snape quirked an eyebrow at that. "I believe you came here for just that purpose. Surely you have met your fun quota for the evening. It's high time you returned to your friends, no doubt."

Harry started giggling again. "Who talks like that?"

"Obviously, I do," Snape drawled.

This set Harry to giggling madly. When he finally calmed down, he said, "Well, I like it. But yes, I guess I should get back to the Weasels." This made him laugh all over again. Snape shook his head in bemusement before escorting him out of his suite and back to said friends.

They waved to each other goodnight, and Snape smirked as he turned, hearing Harry say, "I'm hungry. Can we go for some pizza?" He was glad he wasn't going to have to feed the brat, and it looked like their relationship was established well.

* * *

><p>The following weekend Snape was prowling the club again. He'd already had two sets of customers in the back plus a blow job and thought the night was winding down, when an older set of clients came in, two big burly men and one tall but thin one. They were regulars that showed up in three-month intervals looking for a little Ecstasy. He let them mingle through the crowd for half an hour, getting pissed drunk and hitting on the ladies. He sneered at their stupidity, mixing alcohol with the intense chemicals in that particular hit, but it paid the club and it paid him, so who was he to deny them?<p>

He motioned them to follow him to the back, not wasting time on frivolous small talk. They'd been through this routine enough that negotiations were minimal, so as soon as they walked through his door and closed it, he headed to the back for the Ecstasy. He brought doses back for all three.

"Yaxley, that will be £75 for each of you," he said, handing out the drug.

"Ah, so good of you, Snape. You used to threaten with increasing the price; I'm glad we're all beyond that." Yaxley took out his wallet and handed over the case for himself and his beefy companion, Dolohov.

Avery, the third and thinner man, flung his own cash onto the coffee table between them and sneered. "It's still a ridiculous price for a single hit."

Dolohov shrugged at his companion. "Not any more than some snotty rich dame pays for an opera ticket. Yuck." He shivered at the thought of attending something so posh and aristocratic. "I'm all for this kind of entertainment." He smirked before opening his mouth and swallowing the pill.

"Yeah, I'm with Dol. This is a much better night on the town. Come on, Avery, lighten up." Yaxley took his own pill and downed it, grimacing as it stuck in his throat for a bit.

Avery gritted his teeth and fisted his hands. "Lighten up? You know what I've been going through. Damn social workers!" He pushed his shirtsleeves up his arms with force, then he snatched the drug out of Snape's hand.

"Is it your kid again?" Yaxley asked. He took out a bunch of items in his pocket and laid them on the table: silk, fuzzy pens, a feather, sandpaper. Snape knew they would use them to incite physical reactions in their skin's nervous system once the drug took effect.

"School nurse keeps calling me over the little punk. So much trouble." He shook his head in annoyance and ran his free hand over the short stubble of blond hair on his head in a frustrated manner. Snape could see a vein in his temple pulse in anger. He didn't doubt the boy got on his father's nerves. Avery swallowed the hit. "He'll be lucky to be in any shape to _go_ to school next week when I'm done with him."

Dolohov frowned. "Poor kid. Sorry you're having to put up with him, Avery."

Avery nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Wouldn't be so bad if that damn social nerd didn't come by every fucking week. He's got these green eyes that just stare at you from behind thick, stupid glasses. It just makes me want to hit him. Damn motherfucker." He clinched his fists again and repeated the aggressive gesture of pushing his shirtsleeves up his arms.

All of a sudden it clicked into place, Snape's mind replaying Harry's description of the jerk who would hurt his kid to get attention. There was no way to be one hundred percent certain that this was the same guy without either breaking state laws in examining those case files or breaking Avery's face for a confession, but Snape was sure this was the same person in Harry's report. Rage began to boil in his chest. He stood and watched them all get high, a plan forming in his head. He couldn't let this degenerate get away with harming an innocent. The low-life scum would get what was coming to him.

He waited till the Ecstasy had run about a quarter of its course, about an hour, watching as they all played with the tactile items Yaxley had brought with him. The two big brutes were having the time of their lives with the sensory overload, even taking to overt sexual touches just to inflame each other. The thinner Avery enjoyed the hallucinations he received, commenting on the graphic images floating before his inner eyes. Some of it was highly disturbing, violent and devious, and left Snape in no uncertain terms that the man was a menace. Best to get rid of him. With that in mind, he moved to the kitchen to pour another round of drinks for them all.

Making sure they weren't paying attention to his movements, he removed the bronchitis medicine he kept in one cupboard, smashed up a pill, and dissolved it in one of the drinks. Between the ephedrine from the medicine, the alcohol, the Ecstasy, and the man's natural aggression, Snape was sure there would be adverse reactions. He handed the men their drinks, assuring himself that Avery received the doctored glass, and watched with inner satisfaction as they partook of the libations. Soon after, he kicked them out of his room to enjoy the rest of their evening and give the drugs time to inflict their worst.

* * *

><p>Snape locked down his recreational enterprise for a few weeks after that. If his plan had gone off, then he knew the authorities would run a full investigation to track down the drug pusher who'd sold Avery the Ecstasy. He wasn't about to get arrested for his bit of vigilante work, so he removed all traces of his dealings from the little apartment, storing the drugs with his friend Lucius for the time being until the incident blew over. He still attended the club as usual, pulling more for sex than for profit. He'd already made a tidy sum this year, so a few weeks without revenue would not bankrupt him.<p>

He also needed a release from the anxiety and apprehension. He was worried about a police sting, sure, but he was also worried about Avery's little son for no good reason. He also thought long on Harry and wondered if this would affect him. He found himself craving the young man's attentions, something that had not happened to him before with a one-time stand, even when those former partners became his chemical customers. He had never pondered over any of them after their sexual encounters, they way he had with Harry, and he was disgusted with himself for caring.

Two weeks went by with no word, nor was there any investigation, although Snape knew the legwork in collecting evidence could take a while, not to mention the bureaucratic red tape that the government was known for could also slow them down. He admitted to being bored waiting even with the people-watching that he was doing, but the police had not shown up yet, so he hadn't re-established his business. It left him standing on the sidelines of the dance floor, edgy and frustrated with nothing to do.

He kept scanning the crowd looking for out-of-place constables - his paranoia in full swing - and possible partners for rough sex to release the tension, when he spotted the messy hair and lights flashing off round spectacles.

Snape sauntered over to Harry, who had been looking around the club with excitement. "Searching for that special someone?" he sneered into Harry's ear, only he had to shout it to be heard over the loud music.

Harry turned toward him and grinned, ignoring Snape's sarcastic visage. His eyes, even in the dim light of the dance hall, sparkled with happiness that Snape had not seen in them before. "Hey. I was looking for you. Can we talk?"

Snape nodded then moved to the wall with the acoustic alcoves so they could communicate without inflicting damage on their throats. Harry took the opportunity to hug him, and he stiffened in response.

Harry noticed the tension in him and pulled away, apologizing. "Sorry, sorry. I got carried away; I'm so excited! I know I shouldn't be, because it's really quite awful what happened, but I'm just so glad he's gone and Alistair is okay -"

"Hush," Snape said to stop his ramblings. "What news do you have that you are going on about?" He placed his hands on Harry's shoulders to calm him.

"Oh, right. I guess you hadn't heard. Remember that kid I told you about whose father was hurting him, just to get attention?" Snape nodded, already understanding where this was going. "Well, about two weeks ago, the father left the house in the evening and came back later quite drunk. He yelled at the boy for still being up and not asleep and then tried to attack him, but his heart froze up and he died before the ambulance team showed up. The little boy is in foster care now and much better off. His birth mother is dead, but we're tracking down her family to see if the grandparents or aunts and uncles will take him. I know it's horrible that the guy died, but I'm glad that bastard is dead."

Snape could read the satisfaction in Harry's eyes quite well, and he, too, was pleased with the outcome. He was still concerned about a police investigation, however. "Did they perform a requisite autopsy? They do not suspect the child of any wrongdoing, do they?"

Harry's eyes widened a little at the insinuation. "Oh, no. They don't suspect him at all; the poor kid was terrified of all the paramedics and police that were at his flat. They did run an autopsy, but the guy was into drugs and heavy amounts of alcohol, and when the police questioned all the neighbors and we filed our report on the child abuse, they found out what a jerk this guy was and aren't looking into things too much further than that."

Harry seemed confident that that would be the end of it, but Snape was not so sure. The police could still see the Ecstasy in the man's system from the toxicology report and could try to track him down. He would just have to remain low for a while, perhaps pay a visit to Yaxley and Dolohov to bribe them into silence on his behalf.

"I was … uh, wanting to thank you," Harry said.

Snape's face tightened in worry, suspecting that Harry knew his involvement in killing off Avery. He considered having to bribe Harry as well and possibly lose him as a customer for his underhanded, illegal, and frankly immoral handling of the situation. He had to tread carefully here. "What for?" he asked with caution.

"Oh, uh, for helping me. Letting me work out some stress about this case. I really appreciate it." Snape relaxed a little. There was no sign that Harry knew about his actions. "I was also, huh, wondering if maybe we could celebrate a little?"

Snape looked away, not positive how this part of the conversation should go. "Actually, I'm a bit out of stock at the moment."

Harry lowered his eyes in a shy manner. "Um, I don't mean that way. I mean, that was fun and all last time, but that's not really what I want tonight." He blushed.

Snape blinked, knowing immediately that Harry wanted sex. He never took a lover twice - that was his rule - but he hadn't been able to dismiss Harry from his thoughts. He had been bored and he wasn't taking a chance with his drug dealings right now, so he needed a distraction. It would also help to divert attention away from him should any undercover operatives be watching him. Maybe a short fling would be just the thing he needed right now. One risk to defuse another risk.

He gave Harry a small smile, just a lifting of the corners of his mouth. "Alright. How about we adjourn to your place?"

Harry grinned broadly. "Sounds brilliant." He took Snape's hand, and the two walked out into the quiet of the night.

-The End-


End file.
